Wednesday, April 30, 2025 – Day 260

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Good morning!

Rolling out of another month, and I’m hoping we’re finally sliding into the kind of summer-like weather that might just stick around until October.

I have mixed feelings about saying goodbye to winter—and especially to my cozy morning corner by the fireplace. There’s something about staying indoors that puts fewer demands on my body than summer does. The warmth and brightness of the coming months bring their own kind of beauty, sure—but also a few more physical challenges.

Since March, I’ve been spending a lot of time just staring out the window, watching the garden, the pergola, and the garage. This time of year, I’d normally have my spring cleanup jobs mostly wrapped up. But this year? I knew better than to even try. I can’t even pinch hard enough to pull a single weed—even in soft spring soil. Cindy’s always been the inside person and I’ve been the outside guy. That balance has worked well, especially since her fair skin and the sun don’t exactly get along.

But the solution was right in front of us. We hired the landscapers. And when we got back from Minocqua over Easter weekend, just like that—the garden was completely dressed up and looking fantastic. One less worry heading into the season. And when people compliment the backyard? I don’t have to tell them who did the work, right?

Yesterday, Mark B. and Mike H. came over for what might just become a new ritual—cigars, bourbon, and beer. Well, cigars and beer for Mark and me. I’ve never quite taken to bourbon. I keep hoping my taste buds will mature, the way they did with olives. I used to avoid those things like the plague—green, black, stuffed, didn’t matter. But somewhere after turning 60, I suddenly liked them. Nearly all of them. I still steer clear of anything with blue cheese, though. That’s just cruel. Maybe someday bourbon will click for me. Time’s ticking, so I may need to speed up the taste-bud maturity process.

Up until now, we’ve been enjoying our cigar time in the garage, which is fine—but not exactly scenic. With the weather edging into tolerable territory (low 60s, NW wind), I really wanted to move the venue back to the pergola. Gas cans and tools are fine company, but I prefer flowers and birds.

With Cindy out running errands, I grabbed the power chair, a step ladder, and rolled myself across the backyard to start setting things up. I got the ropes reattached, the plastic rolled up, furniture uncovered. It actually started off well. I even climbed the step ladder without incident. No added falls to the tally—so that was a small win. But the real challenge came when I tried to move the furniture out. Uneven ground and weak ankles don’t make a great combo.

After about 30 minutes of pushing through, I had to concede. I went back inside to get off my legs and wait for Cindy to return. I knew I’d get “the look.” And sure enough, I did. Her eyes said, “Honey, why did you do that?” I told her, “I just wanted to try and help.”

We made a deal—she’d handle the heavy lifting and I’d vacuum from the wheelchair. And it worked. I wheeled around with the vacuum hose and took care of the winter debris, while Cindy wiped everything down and set it all up. It turned out great. I got to contribute without overdoing it, and we were ready when the guys arrived.

All in all, it was a good day. The pergola is cleaned up, I didn’t get hurt, and I got to help without leaving everything to Cindy. It felt like the right kind of compromise.

I know many of you have offered to help, and please know we’re so grateful. I just want to keep doing whatever I still cando for as long as I can. That said—we’ll definitely lean on you when the time comes. And knowing you’re there makes a world of difference

By the way…I did try to sip on some bourbon…and the tastebuds aren’t quite there. Maybe next time.

Have a great day Wednesday.

Love you guys! ❤️